


Ridiculous Sentence Prompts

by BullySquadess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Multi, Ridiculous Sentence Prompts, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:56:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6843850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of tumblr ficlets. Various pairings, mostly love square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.”

“So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.”

Adrien felt his eye twitch, huffing out a breath as he continued to stare down his partner. Despite the height difference, Ladybug matched his challenge, firing back with her own impossibly blue counter-stare as she willed herself onto her tiptoes.

“Let me re-phrase that,” the boy said, pinching the bridge of his masked nose, “You _will_ stay here while I go capture the akuma.”

Ladybug did not like being told what to do.

“Excuse me?” she huffed, poking the finger of her not-damaged arm into his chest as the other hung deadened at her side, “I don’t think you realize that I’m the only one who can cleanse the akuma. Meaning, I’m going back out there!”

“You’re hurt.”

“I’ll manage.”

“You’re right handed.”

“I’m ambidextrous!”

“Don’t make me tie you to a pole…”

“You and what yo-yo?”

Chat groaned, pleading with his partner as the sounds of distant destruction echoed down the street.

“Please, please just let me do this,” he begged, stomach still roiling from her earlier close call. Ladybug had landed hard, and the shriek she’d given when she’d hit the pavement was one he never wanted to hear again.

“I cant let my kwami down,” the girl said with a firm shake of her head. She glanced at the raging akuma before grasping at her yo-yo. With a quick call of “Lucky Charm!” and a flick of her left wrist, Ladybug conjured her special object.

Despite the brevity of the situation, Chat almost laughed.

“Looks like your kwami agrees with me,” he lilted, watching as Ladybug glared down at her charm. The boy laid a steadying hand on your shoulder, squeezing kindly. “It’s okay to sit things out sometimes, even superheroes get hurt.”

Without another word, Chat Noir dashed towards his target, leaving Marinette with a foreign flutter in her chest… and a polka-dotted arm sling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.”

“I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.”

Manon waved frantically over her mother’s shoulder, giving the duo a toothy smile as she was carried farther down the street. Adrien and Marinette stood outside the bakery, return the little girl’s goodbye and dutifully avoiding eye contact with each other.

“I-it… happens to the best of us,” Marinette replied to Adrien’s apology, trying not to self-destruct at the memory of his lips pressed against her own, “Method acting and all that.”

This afternoon had been the Chinese incident all over again. Hauling a screaming child over to the corner, Marinette had nearly cried in relief at the sound of the doorbell… then nearly cried for an entirely different reason as she was met with one politely confused-looking Adrien Agreste.

Most of the time she could appreciate Alya’s attempts at setting her up with her crush, but mid-meltdown wasn’t exactly the most romantic of settings, and Marinette wished she could just slam the door in his handsome face.

She did not however.

Because the second Manon caught sight of Adrien, her crying abruptly stopped, replaced by a wondrous squeal as she ran up to him with the call of “Chat Noir!”

 _‘Well,’_ the put-upon teen thought, giving her friend a shrug as he was pulled through the door by four feet of fury, ‘ _If it shuts her up…’_

It wasn’t five minute later before Marinette found herself running around the living room, following the actions of a polka-dotted doll as it swung through the air. Adrien followed suit, taking up the mantle of its cat-eyed counterpart. Manon joyously manipulated the superheroes, all the while spinning some action story her babysitters where forced to follow.

“Lucky Charm!” the child yelled, thrusting her Ladybug doll up into the air as Marinette mimicked the familiar move. “Cataclysm!” Adrien dutifully slammed his hand down on the couch, even throwing in some cool destructive sound effects that made Manon giggle in glee.

“Thank you,” Marinette whispered, continuing to posture and pose as she craned her neck towards the boy beside her.

“No problem,” Adrien answered, giving her a wink that was almost too spot-on for the character he was playing.

“Oh, Chat Noir,” Manon interrupted in her twinkling voice, “You are so very handsome and brave.” The little girl bent her dolls until the nubs of their arms where touching, narrowing her eyes at her care-givers until the teens mimicked the motion.

Marinette flushed as Adrien slid his hand into hers but repeated the declaration anyways.

“And you are so beautiful and kind, Ladybug,” the boy echoed, following the script their charge laid out for them, “We should run away and get married and let Manon be our flower girl.”

“B-but our cake h-has to be chocolate,” Marinette continued, grasping both his hands now as per the dolls’ commands, “because vanilla is yucky.”

“And then they kissed and kissed!” Manon concluded, eyeing the duo expectantly and mashing her toys together. Marinette sputtered.

“We don’t-“

It had seemed Adrien had been far more in character than she, as he had no problems twirling the girl towards him and planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

Her stunned, open, and very responsive lips.

“I still should have asked,” a voice said, shaking Marinette from her recollection. She glanced over, trying to smooth her features as she took in Adrien’s ducked head. “It’s not very nice to just spring kisses on people like that.”

“Oh I don’t mind!” Marinette spouted, hissing in regret as he jerked up, “I mean… t-that is to say…” She groaned at her stutter, swallowing down her bashfulness to look him straight in the eye. “I enjoyed it, so you have nothing to worry about.”

There was a pause in which she consider delivering a swift kick to his kneecaps and running inside.

“…so can I?” Adrien posed, speaking so low she almost didn’t hear.

“Can you…?” Marinette murmured back, feeling her heart stutter as the boy took a step closer.

“Can I kiss you again, my Lady?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I understand the whole sleep talking thing… but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.”

“I understand the whole sleep talking thing… but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.”

Marinette blink up at the vague face floating above her, clearing the last lingering threads of sleep from her gaze as she focused in on that familiar smile. Coming down from a hell of a nap, her cognition was a bit lax, but she managed to kick her brain into gear enough to respond.

A question. The face had asked her a question.

“Gotta save you from the dragon,” Marinette murmured, rubbing her cheek against the soft denim of the lap beneath her, “Gotta save my princess.”

Now the voice was laughing and that lap was shaking. Although the chuckles where loud, their chiming roll was incredibly sedative to Marinette, granting her a dopey grin as she continued to blearily look up at her love.

“My girlfriend is also my knight in shining armor, who would have ever known.” Nimble fingers carded through inky hair, and a gentle breeze silted through the park. Marinette might have felt bad about falling asleep mid-date, not _exactly_ what she had planned for tonight… but then again nothing about their relationship ever went according to plan. She shrugged.

“My suit was less shining and more polka-dotted,” Marinette said with a heavy tongue, caught between wanting to resume her dream and wanting to continue the conversation as she allowed her eyes to slide shut again, “Red and polka-dotted.” This earned her another pulse-fluttering laugh from the figure above, the sound morphing into words somewhere along the line and soothing her further into her restful state.

“Just how I like it,” the voice lulled, hands still toying in the girl’s hair, “So did you save me, my bespeckled heroine?”

“Not yet.”

“You left me to the dragon? Oh what a cruel fate for your princess!”

“You were the one who woke me up…”

“Well then I better let you get back to your dream then. Don’t want to end up in the belly of the beast do I?” Marinette hummed, already halfway asleep.

“I’ll save you,” the girl whispering, nuzzling into the warm legs beneath her, “I love you.”

“You always do save me,” Alya whispered back, smiling as she watched her girlfriend nod back off, “And I love you too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."

"Stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."

Feline eyes narrowed, one gloved hand fluttering to a forehead in mock-incredulity.

“These are _gifts_ ,” the boy said, painfully enunciating the last word as he threw it towards her, “signs of my un-dying love for you! And I left them for you outside this time so there.”

“These. Are. Dead. Bodies,” Marinette ground out, huffing as she examine the morbid display strewn across her balcony.

Chat Noir had really outdone himself this time. In fact she was sure it had to be a new personal best, a high score in both the number of kills and the level of her subsequent frustration. Two birds, three mice, a squirrel, a toad, and one _hell_ of a building migraine.

She sighed, pulling the trash bag she kept stashed in her back pocket out and going about her cleanup duty.

“Oh, so you’re just going to throw out my love for you?” Chat cried, pouting as he balanced on the latticed railing. He winced as each little creature fell into the bag with a dull thump.

“Yep,” Marinette chirped.

She couldn’t _begin_ to tell you why the hero had suddenly decided to start leaving her, a random (as far as he knew) civilian, these little “gifts”, but apparently Chat was dead set on visiting her every night. At first it had been endearing- thoughtful even!- the little bugs he’d pass to her with a smile. But now that he’d graduated to rodents and reptiles…

“Do you know how hard it is to catch butterflies??” Chat asked, continuing to pout at her refusal to accept his offerings.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea,” she muttered, eyes glimmering darkly.

Straightening at last, Marinette surveyed the balcony, deeming it almost entirely clear of garbage. With a note of finality the girl tied off the trash bag and lobbed it down into the dumpster below, turning her gaze to the very last piece of refuse as it crouched atop her railing.

Chat Noir followed his “gifts” with a howl.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm like 75% sure this won't explode."

"I'm like 75% sure this won't explode."

Adrien kept one eye on the bubbling flask as it quavered atop the table and one on Ladybug, trying to split his attention between two equally volatile subjects and trying to insure neither of them blew up. If he’d have known Paris’ own heroine would be stopping by this afternoon, he would have postponed his experiment.

He needed complete focus, which is difficult to manage when the love of your life just decided to swing in.

“I’m no statistician,” Ladybug shrilled, her voice taut with worry as she edged away from his set-up, “but that doesn’t sound like very good odds to me. What in the world are you doing?”

Adrien took a long breath.

“I saw it online,” he began, launching into his explanation as he continued to examine his pet project, “I was really bored so I decided to do some light reading on alchemical theory and thermodynamics.”

“-of course you did.”

“Anyways,” Adrien said, electing to ignore Ladybug’s incredulous interruption, “I might have secured some extremely reactive materials from various undisclosed sources… and I might have used them to test a hypothesis I was crafting… and now I might-“

**PPPBBFFTTT!**

Both teens shrieked as the concoction burst, spewing blueish foam across every corner of the cavernous room and soiling the stark white of the walls.

“Oh my god what is it?!” Ladybug wailed, scraping the material from where it covered her suit. She glared wide-eyed at Adrien, but he was too busy ripping off his lab goggles to catch the look.

“It’s a sign I need to re-structure my theorem,” the Jr. scientist muttered, tapping away at his tablet and examining the wreckage, “The explosion should have been twice as large as that.”

“You wanted it to blow up??!”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said you were 75% sure it _wouldn’t_ explode!”

Adrien grinned, lab coat stained and hair plastered with indigo slime.

“I was 75% sure I did the experiment wrong.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.”

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.”

She said it as if it where the most casual thing in the world- as if the sight of his Lady, sprawled on the park lawn and covered in a quintet of rolling furballs wasn’t crafted by the very gods themselves as punishment for his hubris.

(Or perhaps his vanity, Chat had yet to decide which mortal flaw had earned him this particular divine torture.)

“I am… literally speechless,” the boy said, staring down at his partner with hands on his hips.

“I wish,” Ladybug huffed, speaking through the orange paw that tread over her mouth. “But seeing as though there are still word coming out of your-“

“I. Am. Speechless!” Chat bit out, not sure which feline to glare at first. After a brief, internal deliberation his acidic green eyes settled on the calico near the girl’s head, swallowing a hiss at the way it nestled against her oh-so-soft hair. How many times had he wanted to run his hands through their silken tresses, only to be shut down with a snort?

“You-“

“Speechless!” he repeated with a tiny stomp of his booted foot. “You wont let me- your trusted partner and love of your life- snuggle against you but you’ll just give it up for any mangy old alley cat who comes your way? I’m positively wounded.” Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“They are _not_ mangy,” she emphasized, scooping one (black!) cat up and dangling it above her with both hands, “Are you little one?”. Chat wasn’t sure what triggered him the most: The loving croon with which she addressed the creature or the equally loving kiss she pressed against it’s forehead.

“Am I not cat enough for you?!” he shrieked, stalking around her with metaphorical hackles raised, “Are my ears too pointy? Is my tail too short?”

“You… you do realize you’re still a human being right?” Ladybug said, eyebrows raised as she continued to writhe amidst her harem of admirers.

“Why won’t you look at me when we make love?!” Chat cried out, letting one hand flutter to the back of his forehead like he was about to drop into a dead faint.

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic!”

“And why shouldn’t I be? I’ve been betrayed most cruelly, and nothing will ever fix my broken heart!”

“Not even if I asked you to join?”

His tirade paused, lips quirking in interest as he turned to his partner. “Join…?”

“There’s plenty of cuddles to go around,” Ladybug coaxed, scooping up a handful of cat and clearing a space near her side. When Chat remained stagnant, caught in his indecision, she patted the grass beside her with an inviting cluck of her tongue. “Get over here you jealous tomcat.”

Chat hummed, belted tail lashing. “Not until you say I’m your favorite,” he sniffed, stubbornly resisting the urge to dive across her abdomen with a loud purr.

“I don’t know…this little guy right here has some _really_ soft fur…”

“I’m leaving.”

“Kidding!” she laughed, throwing an arm out to yank him to the ground. Chat let himself be dragged along, ignoring his instinct to shoo the five other felines away and instead focusing on the warm body lying inches from his own.

“I’m the Cat-King of Paris,” the boy grumbled petulantly, eyes narrowing in challenge any time one of the little ~~vermin~~ creatures got too familiar with his Lady. _‘That’s right, paws to yourselves folks.’_

“That you are,” Ladybug said in a falsely reverent tone. She rolled her head to the side, glancing at him with mischief swimming in her eyes, and Chat only had a second to melt under the gaze before her chin was thrust up and her arms raised skyward. “But I am the Cat-Queen of Paris, and I rule you all!”

He couldn’t fight her on that one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Kiss my shoe.”

“Kiss my shoe.”

Kim would have let lose an incredulous squawk had it not been for the fact he was A: far too masculine for that and B: about 107% sure he’d heard her wrong.

So instead, he just lifted a brow, regarding the 5’ 3” spitfire that glared up at him in challenge. “What now?”

“Oh come on,” Alix snorted, tapping her fingers impatiently atop her crossed arms, “You’re dumb not deaf. I _said_ ‘kiss my shoe’, now I’m waiting for you to do it.”

“Well you’re going to waiting for a long ass time,” Kim said as he slid past her and into the gym’s locker room. “Because there is no way in hell I will ever kiss your shoe.”

“Oh, just like you said there was no way I could hold a plank longer than you?” Alix shot back, elbowing the door he swung into her face aside and stomping through the threshold behind him.

“You do realize this is a men’s only room?”

“I beat you fair and square, no pussing out!” Her tiny footsteps echoed as she stalked him past the long steel benches, the sound breaking the stillness of the otherwise empty changing room.

“Just don’t give a fuck I see,” Kim muttered, twirling the combination (his and her jersey numbers) on his padlock before yanking the locker open with a sigh. Alix slid up between him and the metal storage unit with a stare almost as sharp as the nail she poked to the center of his chest, her next words no less than a growl.

“You said- and I quote!- ‘anything you want if you manage to hold a plank longer than me’ and what I want is for you to get on your pansy knees and kiss my shoe.”

“You weigh like fourteen pounds!” the boy cried, returning her glare with one of his own and groaning in frustration, “Of course a shrimp like you can hold a plank longer!”

“Well think about that next time you try and bet against me,” Alix volleyed back with a sneer. She remained planted in place, only moving her upper body to block his path each time he tried to reach past her into his locker, and Kim wondered (not for the first time) how someone so very small could manage to make themselves such a nuisance.

She was a fly, buzzing in the ear of the bull.

“Read my lips, Sugar Queen. The ones that will never, ever touch your nasty sneakers.” Kim yanked his loose workout tank off his torso in one swift jerk, managing to stuff it in his locker despite the hands that flew up to block its path. He bent down, strong arms folded across his chest and shoulders squared in a posture that might have been intimating to any besides that damned Kubdel.

“Nothing you say…” he drawled with an adamant shake of his head, eyes locked in fearsome battle with the fiery pair below.

“…no dare or wager…”

Alix’s eyelashes (‘ _Since when did she have eyelashes?’_ ) tremored as her gaze narrowed in, lips _(‘Since when did she have lips???’_ ) curling into a snarl and chest _(‘Okay, well at least she still has no chest’_ ) heaving with a pent-up rage reserved solely for those who’d ever been personally victimized by a “you must be at least this tall to ride” sign.

“…could ever convince me to kiss you,” he finished, silently daring her to throw the first jab. Alix looked ready to pounce.

Kim noticed, in a purely cursory sense that had nothing to do with his own opinions, that their position could be considered quite heated to the innocent by-stander. He was a boy (though “young man” felt a bit more apt to his pride) who was very shirtless and very close to a girl (though “vague gender-less blob” felt a bit more apt to his ire). The two stood _very_ alone in a _very_ unsupervised area at an hour _very_ much past the final bell, and all those “verys” were the types of conditions that usually led to the sort of tom-foolery other seventeen year olds often found themselves tangled up in when tensions ran high.

 _‘But this was different,’_ he told himself, chalking both the rising rate of his heart and Alix’s subtle pink that wasn’t just the reflection of her hair up to nothing more than combative spirit. 

Because they weren’t just a boy and a girl, alone in a locker room and inches apart. They weren’t misty-eyed lovebirds, giggling as they fell into a hidden embrace. They were friends… rivals! They’d bled and cried and puked around each other, most often as a result of the other’s egging, and that wasn’t the kind of relationship that led to clandestine encounters filled with groping hands and whispered adorations.

Which is why his next words came as a shock to both of them.

“At least… I’d never kiss you on the _shoe.”_

There was a pause, one filled with a shared and almost audible sentiment of _‘What the fuck was that?’_ , and for a moment both teens were too stumped to do anything other than simply sustain their stare-down.

Kim snapped from it first.

Dredging up years of practiced cockiness, he smacked his lips together in a theatric air kiss that was far too ridiculous to be construed as flirtatious. It was another challenge, another dare, and (if the way her eyes widened before shrinking into slits was any indication) one that had been instantaneously accepted. With a final goading wink, Kim promptly turned on his heel.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Alix said from behind him, her voice an octave higher than its usual grumbling tone and accompanied by the tell-tale sound of following footsteps.

“It means whatever you want it to mean,” Kim threw over his shoulder, grabbing a towel off the wire rack to his left in order to give the illusion of some intended destination. Truth be told, he was blindly fleeing, but the pest trailing along behind him didn’t need to know that.

“Well I think it means you want to kiss my fist!”

“Amongst other things…”

_“What?”_

“Hmmmm?” Kim hummed, turning in the archway that led to the showers, and leaning against the cool subway tile as he regarded the screwed up face of the pixie before him.

“Stop being tricky!” Alix said, stomping her foot in frustration. “You aren’t good at mind games so just give it up!”

“Oh right,” Kim snorted with a palm pressed jokingly against his forehead. “Kind of hard to play mind games when I don’t have a brain, right?”

“Kind of hard to kiss me when your lips are spewing shit.”

Now it was his turn to give a dumb-founded _“What?”._

“I said,” Alix began, painfully enunciating each word as if speaking to a child, “It’s kind of hard to kiss me. When your lips. Are spewing. _Shit_.”

Now that did it.

“I’m going to go shower now,” Kim piped out, hoping his false bravado made up for the damnable heat he felt creeping up the back of his neck. “So unless you want the full frontal Kim-sperience…”

“I’m not leaving until I get my prize,” Alix sniffed, her pose defiant despite the nervous tap of her foot.

“Well I’m not kissing you till I’ve had my shower.”

“Well then I guess I’ll wait.”

“I guess you will.”

Another pause. Another _‘What the fuck was that?’_

“You aren’t stripping,” Alix whisp-

Muttered.

Alix muttered those words because Alix never ever whispered and Alix never ever blushed like that and holy shit was she being  _serious_ right now?

“Well you aren’t leaving,” Kim whisp- _muttered_ back. She shrugged. He shrugged.

**_‘What the fuck was that?’_ **

He was at a total loss. Positively paralyzed by their standoff. 

They’d fought before, they’d wrestled with both words and hands until they’d ended up laughing and punching their lingering strain off. She’d call him “Meathead” and he’d bite a saccharine “Sugar Plum” right back. He’d trip her in the hallways and she’d fly tackle him down the stairs. Those were the tensions they knew how to handle, how to expend.

This was nothing like that.

This was low and coiling, a building pressure he’d never even registered until this very moment. The sudden intensity of it suggested it had been festering for months, quite possibly years, but Kim was only now experiencing the full crushing weight of it for the very first time. And the sensation was only compounded by the mutual comprehension he saw written across Alix’s face, the girl ( _‘Girl, she was most definitely a girl._ ’) scrunching her brow as if trying to puzzle out what exactly hung in the air between them.

It was heavy, heady, both exhilarating and wrenching it it’s exquisite-

 _‘SEXUAL TENSION,’_ Kim’s allegedly non-existent mind screamed, tired of waiting on the boy to catch up. _‘THAT FEELING IS SEXUAL TENSION.’_

Oh yeah. That.

“I’m waiting,” Alix broke in, clearing her throat and giving a shake of her wild, (when had she removed her hat?) candy-colored locks,

“For…?” Kim nearly sighed in relief over the fact his voice didn’t shatter on that word alone. 

Without ever breaking their magnetic eye contact, Alix slumped down onto the bench behind her. Spandex-clad legs sprawled out in the most un-ladylike fashion possible, dusty sneakers smacking on the floor and slim (deceptively so, given how strong they were) arms crossed.

“I believe I was promised a ‘full-frontal Kim-sperience’, hhhmmm?”

Inexplicably, he cracked a smile.

There it was again, that challenge- that _dare_. Her goading smirk was familiar, melding surprisingly well with the foreign flush across her cheeks, and Kim felt himself relax the gesture. This pressure wasn’t purely physical. It wasn’t simply physiological. It was them, just as it had always been.

Old tensions mixed with the new, creating a unique sort of atmosphere that was ripe for competition, and each combatant readied them self for war.

Kim’s thumbs hooked into the waistband of both his gym shorts and boxers, eyebrow hitching up in smug provocation.

Alix popped her neck, giving a look that clearly said “what are you waiting for?”

_‘Nothing.’_

He tugged.


End file.
